Mirrors Don't talk
by kito princess
Summary: It's what I wrote for Push Novels contest. My friend asked for it on here since we can't get it to send on fan fiction.
1. Chapter 1

**I**

It's hard. It's hard to hide from the truth. To hide from people. To hide secrets that are bundled up. To not tell a secret that could be a life or death situation. People become allies with one another, causing them to be pulled into all types of wars. Wars on the battlefield and wars on the streets.

That's why I have isolated myself from the world. Hidden myself from what truly can happen. The reason why I won't talk to anyone. Why no one will not expect to hear my voice anytime soon. Why no one will tell me secrets. Why no one will get close to me.

"Kim, could you answer this question on the board?" the student teacher questions. I don't even remember her name. Why bother? She'll just disappear from this school. Say that she'll miss us and never return for the rest of her life.

Oh that's right, she told me to answer the math question on the board. Scanning over the long Pythagorean Theorem question. I was suppose to tell if it was wrong or right. Something that I had learned in eighth grade. Now in ninth, I was ready for anything. Something like this, was easy. 

I nodded my head, but didn't say a word. The student teacher raised her eyebrows into her bangs. I was starting to think why people had bangs lately. They were annoying and never seemed to be important. Just a style.

"Can you tell me the answer?" she questioned stubbornly. I shake my head. Two years of not talking was starting to wear on me. Just because this one teacher has asked me a question doesn't mean I will start talking all of a sudden.

"Miss. Linder-" Oh, so that is her name. "-Kim doesn't talk. She hasn't since you- know- what happened." I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. I just rested my head as the popular, prep girl answered the question.

I rested my head on the desk, pulling the hood to my zip up sweatshirt. I concealed my pale skin from the world around me. The bruises that seemed to remand there over the years. 

"Is Kimberly-Anne Sinster in your class?" A voice rasped on the speaker. The student teacher looked up a little surprised. The other students snickered and laughed. I bowed my head in my arms even more. I didn't want to be called down. Why are they calling me down there anyways?

"Yes, I guess so," Miss. Linder responded. 

"Could you send her down to the main office?" the voice rasped some more on the loud speaker. I flinched. I still didn't want to go down. Maybe my father wanted another meeting with me. I didn't want to meet with him.

"Sure," Miss. Linder responded without even thinking. The loud speaker made a small clicking sound as it turned off. Before Miss. Linder could even turn her attention to me, I was up and already walking to the door. The faster there, the faster out.

"Kim, do you think that you will be back?" Miss. Linder questioned. I stopped in my tracks and thought about that. Was I going to be back? I don't know, but I wasn't going to answer her. She was expecting me to talk.

And I wasn't going to answer anything she had to say.

I just opened up the door and walked out into the quiet hallway. Everyone was in their classes. The halls were always empty ever since the school restricted bathroom times. Only around lunch time were people allowed to go to the bathroom, after that or before, it was useless to try and go to the bathroom. Unless if you had a rule bending study hall teacher. 

My white sneakers made that familiar squeaking sound when wet. Even though it was three hours past the time when I got to school, my sneakers were still wet from the early rain. 

It doesn't take long to get to the main office from my math room, but when someone's mind is clouded, it seems to take forever. My mind wasn't really clouded, but I was over thinking about why I was being sent to the office.

When I opened up the door to the office, I froze. Now I know why I was called down. My father was standing there, talking to the attendant at the desk. His hair was unruly as usual. I bet that he hasn't been combing it. Without me at the house anymore, he must be not taking care of himself. 

I felt my arms start to shake. I didn't want to be around my father. Not now, not ever. The state said that he couldn't be three yards close to me. He had to stay away from me. Away from mother and me.

"Kimmy," my father said with his voice overdosed with sweetness. I flinched with fear about what he was thinking. I didn't want to be around him. I could already feel myself becoming weak just by looking at him.

"Kim, you didn't tell us you had such a sweet father," the attendant said. I flinched. Yeah, my father was nice. Nice around people who mattered. If only people knew how he was like when no one was around. When it was just him, my mother, and me. 

My hands at my sides clenched and unclenched. I wasn't in the mood to talk with my father. I wasn't going to talk at all. Just like I haven't spoken in two whole years. 

My father held out his arms. His rage of a jacket seem to fall apart on his arms. "Can't you come over and give your old man a hug?" I stood right where I was at the door. I didn't want to move. Not even my hand on the doorknob moved. 

My hand on the doorknob started shaking. I wanted to get away from him. I wanted to do something rational. I decided to do something that I did the last time I met him. 

I turned around and ran.

The rest of the time for sixth period past by. I stayed in the girls bathroom. I didn't even bother to go to lunch with the rest of the ninth graders. I just wanted to make sure that my father had left. 

I gripped the back of my neck with one of my hands. I felt my body shake as I leaned against the stall wall. I felt like cursing myself for feeling so weak. To let my father effect me so badly.

A choked sob came out of my throat. Maybe that was the only sound I have made in two years. The only sound that would ever come out of my mouth again. I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

"Hey!" A loud rap on my stall made me jump out my skin. "Are you almost done in there? All the other stalls are disgusting." I shook my head, not realizing that the girl couldn't see me shaking my head. The silence was enough for them to realize something. "Is someone in there?" Yes, but who says they are going to answer you? The annoying rapping came again. "Get the hell out of that stall right now!"

I was still silent as the girl fell silent as well. I didn't know if they had walked away, but by not hearing sneakers making their squeaking noise, I was thinking that she didn't. 

"Kim, it's you in there, isn't it?" the girl questioned. I was surprised when I heard my name. This girl knew me. This girl knew who I was. Was she in my grade? She had to be, if she knew my name. 

"Of course you wouldn't answer me," the girl continued. "You haven't spoken since seventh grade. How would I think that with it just being us here you would start talking? How pathetic of me." That voice was starting to sound familiar to me. I tried my hardest to remember who she was.

Then it snapped to me. Claire! How could I forget the sweet brunette that always had her head in a book? She was always sweet and quiet. I was able to sit next to her in lunch and not have to worry about any kind of small talk. 

I opened my mouth to ask her about her reading. About how many points she had in the school reading section. But when no sound came out of my mouth, I shut it. I was starting to become scared. I wanted to talk for the first time in two years, and I couldn't seem to get a single word out of my mouth.

I closed my mouth and brought my knees closer to my chest. Oh how I wish I could have a kind of chest like the other girls in my school. They were all active and yet they have these huge bosoms on them.

"Kim? Could I come in?" Claire asked. "I haven't seen you since seventh grade. I would like to talk to you. Even if it means not hearing you talk." A silence went by before Claire added, "Knock once on the ground if you don't' want me to come in, or knock twice for me to come in." My knuckles rasped on the tiled floor twice.

The stalls now have a lock on the inside and outside because of smoking reasons that have surfaced over the years. I didn't bother to lock either of them, so Claire opened up the door slightly and peeked in. She smiled when she saw me.

I wanted to open my mouth and start asking all sorts of questions, but her looks halted me in anything I was about to do. I always knew everyone grows up and changes, but this was something I was never expecting. 

Claire had changed. Her hair color was no longer that brunette color. She had dyed it blonde. Those baggy jeans were replaced with tight, ripped ones. She had make up caked on her face. What happened to her saying things about 'natural beauty'? Instead of her white gym shoes, she had those new green high heels. What happened to her saying that her parents could never afford something new? Those shoes must have been around a hundred bucks.

There was one thing that never changes, and that had to be her smile. She looked really happy to see me on the floor of the bathroom. 

"Kim," she breathed out. She got to her knees and gave me a hug. "Oh thank God you are ok!"

My hands shook at my side. Did she know? 

"I heard your father came to school not long ago, I bet he was trying to take you away from your mother, but he has no right to do that!" Claire exclaimed. She straightened up. Her hands were balled into fists in her lap. 

"Oh!" Claire said, suddenly her mood lighting up. She looked at her outfit and beamed. "You know that Jesse boy? The blonde one? Well, do you remember how we would use to talk all the time?" Each question she asked I nodded my head. She was excited, but I needed to figure out what she was getting at. "We've been talking more lately and he told me about what he likes in a girl. He likes blonde girls who wear make up with tight jeans. I changed so much just to get his attention." My eyes softened with sadness for Claire. She changed so much, and for what? To try and get a guy who she has been friends with since Pre-K?

"Kim, how have you been? Good? Bad? Ok?" Claire asked. She fidgeted a little. She let out a sigh. "Maybe I made a mistake with this." Maybe? Yes, yes you did, Claire. 

"Your father," Claire said, changing the subject. "Is he nice?" I shook my head violently, making my red braid whip my face a few times. "Oh, I see. Well, did he leave your mother?" I shook my head again. "Oh, so your mother left him?" I shook my head again. ". . . You're parents aren't divorced?" 

My parents never divorced. The state just separated them. To keep the fighting down. Maybe because the state thought that I was scared.

"Kim, are you scared?" Claire asked.

I was silent. Was I scared? No, not right now. Was I scared when I saw my father again? Yes, yes, I was scared. I thought that I would never see him again, and then he appears in the main office, asking for me.

I don't want to see that man ever again.

"Kim, should I change my outfit back to what it use to be?" Claire asked. I glanced at her and nodded. "Do you think I'm stupid for changing so much for just one boy?" I nodded my head again. "I thought so."

Claire got to her feet. I looked at her with a confused look. She glared at me. "Well? Are you just going to sit there or get up? I really have to pee now!"

I wanted to chuckle at Claire. She was still the same old same old. 

I got to my feet and walked out of the stall. I waited just outside of the bathroom. People passing by gave me a confused look, but I mostly ignored them. I didn't want to do anything with them, I just wanted to be with one of my old friends.

Claire came out of the bathroom and looked at me with a surprised look. Wiping the water on her hands onto her jeans, she smiled up at me. "Man, and I thought that you had left without me. You scared me there for a second."

I nodded my head. Having someone that you didn't expect to see waiting for you can give you a good scare. 

"So, how have you been?" Claire asked. I lifted my hand and shook it from side to side. "So-so? Haha, same here. Seems like as if ninth grade will be different from eighth grade, huh? So many more tests to take, and then the regular chapter tests. Ugh, I hate that kind of stuff. Wait a second, did I sound like a caveman when I went 'ugh'?" I nodded my head. Claire started laughing at herself. "Man, I must have sounded like an idiot." She let out a small sigh. "I must be chattering. Maybe it's because someone is more quiet than me."

I wanted to chuckle, I really did, but nothing came out of my throat. Maybe I should try something different.

"Kim! Oh my gosh! We missed lunch." Claire let out a small sigh. "That really sucks. It was something good for once too." Claire looked depressed. Her blue orbs had lost some of their sparkle, but the sparkle soon came back. "Oh! My cousin is leaving school for his work now. Maybe we can ditch the rest of the school day, what do you say, Kim?"

I was about to shake my head, but my stomach didn't seem to be on my side. Instead, I just nodded my head. Before I could even realize it, Claire had grabbed my hand and started running to the closest doors located to the lot with all the cars.

"Chris!" Claire shouted. A boy-a tall boy- stopped cursing and jumbling with the keys in his hands. "Could you take us out to lunch? To the pizza shop you work at?" I looked surprised at Claire. Her cousin works at a pizza shop? Why didn't she tell me this earlier?

"Why, sure, but if someone finds out about this, and you get me into trouble, no more discount for you," her cousin-Chris- said sternly. 

"Oh, don't worry about that, I'm just the book worm who knows all the answers to questions on tests and Kim, over here, is just the silent one who keeps her grades up high," Claire said. "Who would miss us?"

Yes, who would? It didn't really matter for me, I was a straight A student who didn't miss a day. Why would one, two periods matter?

"Alright then, hop in before someone notices you're gone," Chris said, opening up the back door for the girls. Claire made a familiar squeaking sound that resembled a mouse. She made this mouse noise when she was over excited when she was younger, but now it only came once and a while.

"Come on, Kim, we don't want to miss out on free pizza, now do we?" Claire asked. I would have chuckled, but I just got into the back with the familiar silence. 

Chris got into the front seat behind the wheel and closed his door. "Kim, close that door, will you?" I nodded my head in obedience. I closed to door. As soon as Chris heard the slam, he started his engine and off we went. 

"You see," Claire said, "Chris is a senior, and since he did everything during Freshmen, Sophomore, and Junior year, he has most of his day empty, so he goes to work for the last two periods."

I nodded my head. 

"You know," Chris said, "people who are quiet are usually thinking too much into something. Is that why you are so quiet all the time?" I didn't shake my head. I didn't nod my head. I just stared down at the gray carpet. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong.

Or maybe I was just looking into it too much.


	2. Chapter 2

II

"Kim, is there something that you have always wanted to be?" Claire questioned. We were sitting in the pizza parlor, obviously not talking. People around us looked at us oddly, but we ignored it. It was like as if they haven't ever seen two kids skipping school before. It was popular lately. 

I stopped chewing my pizza and stared at Claire with a confused looked. I never was the person who wanted to stick to one thing as a future job. I once wanted to be a deep sea diver, but I changed that after the fear of sharks. Then I wanted to be an archaeologist, but changed that after the thought about being careful wasn't my kind of thing.

I shook my head as I found my conclusion. I wasn't even sure what I would become in the future.

"Really? Wow," Claire said. She leaned up against the bench. "Well, I want to become a writer. Since a lot of my books that I read have inspired me." I nodded my head. I could see Claire as a writer. Making something that consists of things she has read with her own ideas to create something new.

"You girls enjoying yourselves?" Chris questioned as he walked over to our table. The pizza parlor was small, but it seemed to always be packed with a group of people somewhere in a corner. And then there was the constant flow of people coming in and out to buy pizza for later.

"Yeah, we were just talking," Claire said.

"Don't you mean that one of you were talking while the other was just listening?" Chris picked. I scowled at him. I could speak when I wanted to! Really...Right?

"Oh, Chris! Don't be so mean!" Claire said. Chris shook his head and muttered something that sounded like: "What happened to the quiet girl who would only glare at me?" I couldn't help it, I actually started giggling.

"Oh, Kim!" Claire exclaimed as she heard my sorrow of a giggle. "You laughed! Hopefully you'll start talking again, won't you?" I took a bite of my pizza before nodding my head. "Could you speak now on?" I opened my mouth to try and say yes, but nothing came out, so I just closed my mouth and shook my head. "Aw, but you'll try, right?" I nodded my head before grabbing another piece of pizza.

"Oh!" Claire exclaimed suddenly. "Remember Eric?" I almost choked on my pizza. Eric? The boy from seventh grade? The one who cut himself and got himself sent to one of the loony places? The boy who almost kissed me? The one who found out about my family secret? How could I **not **forget him? "Well, I heard a rumor from Amber." Amber? Since when did you start talking to that blonde prep? "I heard her say that he might be coming back to school. How awesome would that be?"

How not awesome would that be? I don't really seem to find myself agreeing with you, Claire. No offense to Eric(wherever he may be) but he creeps me out still with his scars all up his arms and that goofy grin that seemed to make you think that he was reading your mind with those weird green eyes that seemed to look into your very soul. Nope, I didn't want to talk with him again. Not now, not ever.

"Oh, mention Eric and him being gone, do you remember Mickey?" Claire questioned. I nodded my head.

Mickey was. . .well. . . different. He wasn't like most guys. He didn't like to fight. He stayed away from people who would make his temper erupt. He would shake and shiver in his place when it came to horror movies. His scream was high pitched and girly. 

"Is this Mickey guy coming back too?" Chris questioned as he walked by the table again. He stopped shortly to wait for an answer.

"Maybe, but his parents aren't sure until the promotion," Claire said. Chris nodded and walked away to another table.

"Then again," Claire said, "nothing there lately seems to be deciding straight forward. Ever since the sickness that Mickey caught. Now he is sick almost all the time. His parents aren't really sure about coming back. They think that it might make his sickness worse."

Mickey? He's sick? Since when? I must have had confusion written all over my face, because Claire started laughing at me. I just turned red and started eating again. 

"Oh, Chris, could you drop Kim off at her house? I don't think that my mom would like it if I had a friend over without permission, and since it is getting pretty late. School must have ended over two hours ago," Claire said, looking down at her wristwatch. I gave her a confused look. Since when did Claire wear wristwatches?

Claire looked up and met my eyes. She smiled and showed off her blue banded watch. "I got for my birthday a year ago. I never found a use for it until recently. The kid I've been babysitting has almost no clocks in the house. I have had my on since that day I babysat." 

Oh.

"Well, girls, I have a twenty minute break for right now, so I can take Kim home, hopefully under that time," Chris said. Claire got to her feet. I did too, before grabbing another slice of pizza that is.

Claire started laughing. "Kim, you act like as if you haven't eaten in days! What is with you all of a sudden?" I smiled sheepishly at her. "Don't worry, I won't tell your mom as long as you chow it down in the car."

"Just don't get it all over my stuff," Chris grumbled. Claire smacked him before stepping into the car. I followed in after her, finding it hard with one hand filled with pizza. Claire had started laughing at me. I turned red and decided to bite the crust to keep it in my mouth.

"Ew, now it's all soggy," Claire commented as I got into the car and took out the pizza. I shrugged and started eating the crust first. "You are still weird, you know that?"

I nodded my head in agreement.

"Kim, is this your house?" Chris asked as he slowed down. I nodded my head when I saw the baby blue house. I didn't realize how close my house was to the pizza parlor. Now I knew when my mother was too sick to get out of bed, I could just grab some of my allowance money and pop in.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the brown car lazily sitting in my driveway. How come that car seemed to be familiar? I know I've seen it before, but I don't know where I knew it from. 

Well, no turning back now. Maybe it's because the fact that Chris has already driven off, leaving me at the top of my driveway, looking dumbly at the car. 

I walked down the dirt driveway and opened up the screen door and then the regular white door. I stopped dead in my tracks for the second time today. 

My father was sitting at the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hands. My mother was sitting across from him. She was dabbing her face with her cloth she had with her all the time. Her face was red and her eyes were blood shot. What has my father said to mother to make her like this?

"Kimmy, I'm so glad that you are here," my father said. His voice was still filled with that fake sweetness. I felt my legs start to shake. Oh, I didn't want any of this to happen! Not again.

"Kim, why don't you come sit down and talk with us?" my mother choked out. I looked over at her and then at my father. I didn't want to, but my mother always just wanted to have me happy, so I sat down. 

"Kimmy, the state has lifted the restraint that they had on me, I'm allowed to see you guys again. Don't worry, I've changed since we've last talked," father said. He seemed to not be looking straight up at us, and he still had that sweetness in his voice. To me, he seemed. . . loopy. 

"But, how could that be possible? It was a lifetime restraint," my mother said. I nodded my head in agreement. My father looked over at us and I couldn't help but to flinch. His brown eyes seemed to be dead. Like life had left them. What has happened to my father?

"They had me on some pills, and now I feel great," father said. His head swivelled from side to side. It reminded me too much of how he could come home drunk. That I don't need to remember now.

"Did you happen to take too many than needed?" mother questioned. I was just thinking that. Mother was good at doing that. It seemed like the question that you wanted to ask, but couldn't get it out, mother was able to get it out instead.

"Nope!" father said cheerfully. I frowned. Was father now on drugs instead on liquor?

"Kim, go wait upstairs, will you?" Mother looked at me, straight in the eye for the first time in months. I knew that she was serious, so I got up and walked up the stairs. I heard father banging his fists on the table.

"Hey! No one told you that you could leave!" father protested. I flinched from that. It scared me when father sounded like that. 

I stilled walked up the stairs. Father's protests disappeared when I was no longer in view. I walked to my room and closed my door, but not all the way. I just let it peek out a tiny bit. 

I sat on my bed. The worn out mattress sunk underneath my weight. I sighed out. I needed a new bed. A new one soon. Hopefully. 

I heard a crash downstairs. I jumped to my feet to run downstairs, but then I heard a door slam. Where did it slam? 

"Kim, could you come downstairs?" my mother called. I was downstairs as fast as I could get down there. Mother didn't look so good. Her good china was broken all over the floor. "Could you help me with? It got all over. Get the broom and help me with it."

I nodded my head and started searching for the broom. I started helping my mother by sweeping up the smaller pieces. After that, we sat down at the table. Staying in silence, we just both fiddled with our fingers. A bad habit we both had.

"Your father wants to move back in," mother said. "I told him no. He got mad and stormed out. But not before he broke the china." I tried swallowing the knot in my throat. Father did that all in one day from being gone for two years? I guess the marriage thing was something that seemed to be fake in the world now.

"Kim, I need to go to bed for right now." Mother got up from her seat and walked up the stairs. I let out a small sigh. 

I guess that means no supper for tonight.

"Kim! Hey, it's good to catch up with you, how was it when you got home?" Claire asked as soon as she saw me in the hallway before home room. I shook my head. "It wasn't good when you got back to your house?" I shook my head again. "Was your father there?" I nodded my head. "That man needs to stay out of your and your mother's life."

At least someone agreed with me.

"Oh! The rumor about Eric returning is true, can you believe that?" Claire said. The hand that was reaching up to grab my science book stopped and started shaking. Eric? Oh, God, no! That can't be real!

I had started blocking out Claire's rambling about something else. I started to notice that the blonde dye in her hair was fading and her brown locks were returning. Thank the heavens that she wasn't going to keep that hair. Blonde was never her color, and it will never be.

"Oh, did you know that we have a substitute for science? We'll be watching that one movie, but we'll need to take notes on it, since Mr. Rill wants to know if we watched it or that we just messed around," Claire said.

I was starting to wonder where she got all this information so early in the morning, but her home room is with the science teacher, so I could see where that one came from. The Eric thing? I still didn't understand how Amber knew this, and why she was passing it on to Claire.

"Kim, are you going to talk anytime soon?" Claire asked. I sighed and thought about it. I shrugged a little bit after. Claire sighed. "You better soon. I miss your voice." Claire stopped dead in her tracks and shook her head from side to side. "I can't believe I just said that."

I giggled, I really giggled. Claire looked back at me and smiled. "Well, at least we are getting somewhere." Claire looked like as if she was a shining star. What was it that was so important about me talking?

I slipped into home room class before the bell rang. Claire ran off to get to the science room. I waved good bye to her as she left. She waved back as she ran away. I wanted to laugh when I saw her bump into so many people on the way.

"Everyone, sit down and be quiet for announcements!"

It wasn't hard for me. I just sat down in my seat. Well, I would. If someone wasn't already sitting in it. I stood there, shifting the book from hand to hand. The figure didn't even budge. Maybe this was one of those times when you needed your voice.

"Hey, that's Kim's seat." I almost sighed when someone had spoken up. The relief didn't stay long, since the figure didn't even move an inch.

"If it's her seat, then why doesn't she just speak up to get me out of it?" 

My eyes widened drastically. I knew that voice. I knew it too well. I should have looked closer at the figure. Even though he has changed, he still has those scars all over his bare arms. He had changed his hair color from the blonde it was to a pure black. His clothes were a short sleeve that was blood red. His pants were baggier and blacker. Even if that was possible.

The boy turned around in his seat and peered at me with those weird green eyes. A goofy grin plastered on his face. 

"Well, it's good to see you again, Kim," Eric said. He got to his feet. "How about we share the seat?" My legs started to shake. Eric frowned. "Is there something wrong, Kim?"

I did the most logical thing that could come to my mind at the moment. The only thing that surfaced against all the other tiny voices in my head. 

I turned around, and fled.

"Kimberly Ranay, you get back here!" my home room teacher shouted. I didn't pay attention to him. I wanted to get away. 

As the announcements blared in the background, in the back of my head, I ran as fast as I could. And I ran where I thought that could be the only place that I could get away from Eric so far.

I pushed to doors to the school and ran. I ran as fast as my legs could take me.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

I sat on the swings in the playground. The only place I found safe when I was younger. I t was a good place to get away from my parents. It was in the middle of where my school was located and where my house was. It wasn't very far. I was out of breath, though. Running all the way here was going against my body.

"You shouldn't run." I stiffened, but didn't look up. I knew who was talking. I knew who had followed me. "Running never can solve anything. Then again, you are good at running, so it may solve most of your problems." The swing next to me was now replaced from empty air to having a solid person sitting in the seat. "You can't avoid me, though."

My hands were starting to shake. I didn't like it. 

"Hey, you need to calm down." Eric grabbed one of my hands, but I pulled it away. "I'm trying to help you, if you haven't noticed." 

"How-how." My voice came out pitiful. I couldn't even finish that much before Eric placed a hand on my mouth. I felt like biting it.

"How did I find out?" he questioned. I nodded my head. "Please, we were good friends when we were younger. The first time that your mother told us to go outside when your father came home, I knew that they fought. I knew that you were scared too. You still are."

I shook my head no. I felt his fingers grip my face harder. I flinched from the pressure. 

"No? What do you mean that you aren't scared anymore? If I was in your place right now, I would be scared. Why aren't you scared?" Eric hissed.

In times like this, I seem to freak. If you seen what has happened with my father, twice already, and with Eric in my seat. Well, Eric just being there. I was starting to panic. I did the most logical thing I could think of.

I bit his hand.

Sounds stupid, yes, but I wanted his hand off of my mouth, and I wanted to get away from him. 

As soon as his hand whipped away,- with him howling at the top of his lungs- I ran as fast as I could. Track was never the sport that I was good at. Running was something that I was never good at. 

Running away from someone is different.

Being scared is something different.

Track is a for fun sport in school, and maybe even out of school. Something to keep someone active. Something for good competition. Something...that is different from school. 

Running was something that you are timed on, to see how active one person is. Some don't care about this. Some do. I'm not a person who cares or doesn't care. I just want to see if I can run fast. I never can. I'm always lagging behind everyone.

I never realized it, but it was starting to rain. It was starting to rain hard. With every step I took, the rain beat down on my face painfully. Maybe it was hail, because it stung like needles, and was as cold as ice. Yes, that has to be it.

"Kim! You can't run away forever!" Eric shouted behind me. I could barely hear him with the wind whipping in my ears like roaring engines. But I knew, just by how he sounded, he was tired out. 

I didn't stop running. No, I couldn't. It felt like as if my body was autopilot. I didn't know where I was going, but my body seemed to know where I was.

Before I knew it, I was standing under the flashing neon lights of "Papa Parlor", the pizza parlor that Chris works at. Why was I here? What made my body come here?

I took a few hesitant steps to the building. In around three steps, I was standing close to the door. So close, I could feel the warm heat seeping through the glass into my numb fingers. My hands rested on the knob, but I couldn't get my shaking hand to open it.

The knob started to turn under my hand, which startled me. I let go of it, but it didn't stop the person from coming out. When it opened up, I was surprised to see who it was. And the person was surprised as well.

Amber number two.

They call Amber Rollo the second one because she is always the second best. Second best with grades, second in sports, and second when it came to who would be picked to be on who's team.

The girl looked at me with great surprise in her muddy depth called eyes. "What are you doing here? And during school time too." She looked down at the wrist watch on her arm. "Yeah, it's still school time."

I tapped one of my feet on the ground. The concrete under my feet felt a little soft. Maybe I was on the "Welcome!" mat that the little parlor had placed out.

"Well, I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here, right?" Amber questioned. She placed a strand of her loose red hair behind her ear. "My father said that he would come pick me up from here before I go to the dentist. He doesn't like going to the school. Any school at that." Amber glanced behind me. "There he is now!"

It was painful to watch Amber leave. To know that she has a caring father. Instead of one that is always drunk off his rear end.

I had to take a deep breath. I was getting too worked up about all of this. I had to calm down a little bit. 

Glancing around to see if Eric was anywhere's close, I saw no one in the pouring rain. Who would be out in this rain anyway?

I turned around and opened the door. The little bell rang over head. People glanced up at me, confused at what a teenage girl doing in the pouring rain during school time. I was a little embarrassed. Being in my regular jeans and jean jacket, plus with the soaking rain making it hard to see out of my glasses as well as drenching my clothing, I looked pretty stupid.

I walked over to a small, round table that had only one seat. I let out a sigh before my head hit the table. The sound was louder than what I expected. I was betting I now had everyone in here looking at me.

"Runaway?" 

My head jerked upwards. I swear I felt the muscles in my neck start to burn. A girl, not much older than me, was standing there, smiling down at me. The girl looked like as if she could be a model! Her body was slim. She had on these expensive clothing. I didn't like the purple skirt, though. Her face was clear of both acne and make-up.

"You know-," The girl pulled a chair from another table and sat on it, backwards. "- I use to skip school all the time. I just couldn't take being picked on." Her? No way. "It's true, though," she added, maybe because of the look I had on my face. "My parents were always fighting, I could never bring a friend over. Both of my parents were always drunk off their butts. I was thinking about running into some bars and get drunk as well, to see what was so special about it. I changed my mind soon after. I passed school with a 97 average for all my years. Went to college for six years. Now I'm a lawyer with a great husband and a child on the way."

I felt my mouth hang up. This girl- who didn't look much older than me- was around twenty-seven, married, and having a child? 

"I don't look very old, yes, and sometimes I hate that," the girl commented. "Everyone that passes by always says 'Aren't you suppose to be in school' or 'You're a lawyer?'. It gets very annoying most of the time."

"I-I-I bet," I stuttered out. The girl let out a small chuckle.

"First time talking in a long time?" she questioned. I nodded. "How long? Three, four months?"

"Two years," I muttered quietly.

"Man, I could never stay quiet that long," the girl commented, letting a low whistle come out of her mouth. I envy people who can whistle. "Oh, here, you should have your glasses cleaned." She reached over the table and pulled off my glasses. 

I never realized how blind I was without my glasses. I couldn't see this girl without them on my face. I looked down at my hands. They were visible. I looked back up and the girl was all a blurry mess. It was like as if they had placed a full body mess up on her like they do on those cops show to make sure that the people on there aren't recognized. 

"There." The girl placed my glasses on my face again. I was able to see right after that. "Now you look a little better." She reached over and gave me a pat on her back. "I must be going, but first, I should at least let you know where I live and all that, just in case you need some help with something." She pulled out a piece of paper and started scribbling on it with a pen from her pocket. She folded it up and handed it to me. "I'll see you later." She gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

I fiddled with the paper a little after she left. Chris wasn't on shift. He wasn't going to be on shift today. Not at all. I was basically going to sit here all by myself until someone comes in and takes me home.

I hope it isn't Eric.

I don't want to see that boy ever again in my life. Even if it meant not to go to school ever again. 

I fiddled a little bit with the table cloth before getting up and going to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. My glasses were sliding down my face again. My hair draped down, sticking to my face. 

I looked at the paper in my hand that was crumpled up. The name was Sarah Hills. She is a lawyer, but she's also helps out with children who are having trouble at home. Only the children. . . 

My hands were starting to shake on the edge of the sink. I wasn't starting to feel good. I felt like as if I was going to pass out.

"Please," I muttered to the mirror. "Please help me."

My hands slipped from the edge of the sink. I felt my body falling backwards. I could feel the black creeping into my consciousness. I maybe had the most weirdest last thought before all my senses disappeared.

Mirrors can't talk.

I heard beeping noises when my senses started coming back to me. I also felt small needles in my hands. To add with these two things I didn't like, there was a breathing thing on my face.

There was also a heavy weight on my right. I felt stiff on that side. It felt weird to have one side fine and then the other side stiffer than stiff.

I stirred a little. I wanted to get whoever was on me to get off.

"Kim!" My mother's voice stopped me from trying to pry the person off. Maybe it was because my mother was that person on me. "Thank God you're alright!" My mother hugged me around my neck, crying. "They say you passed out in a pizza bathroom and hit your head on the wall. They said that you were going to be in a coma."

"Th-they?" I questioned. My mother pulled back and stared at me with wide eyes.

"You're talking," she whispered. Her tear stained face split into a smile. "I haven't heard your sweet voice in two years. It's finally great to hear that silence being replaced with something."

"Mom, the-the question," I muttered.

"Oh! When I said they, I mean the doctors as well as the person who got you out of the bathroom," mother said.

"Who?" I asked, curious at who had saved me.

"A really nice boy who says that he knows you," mother answered. I stiffened. It couldn't be Eric. . . Could it?

"Ma'am,"A nurse said, knocking on the door before. "Visiting hours are almost over with. And this young man wishes to speak with her in private." My mother nodded her head and got up from her seat.

"Be a good girl while the hospital takes care of you," my mother said, kissing my forehead and walking out of the room. After she left, I looked away from the doorway. I didn't want to see who was coming in.

"I told you that you can't run away forever."

How come I seem to guess right?

Eric sat down in the chair that my mother was just in. "Your mother is very nice. Her skin is too pale, though. When does she go outside?" I shrugged, looking away from him again. He let out a small sigh. "I'm trying to help you."

I stayed silent.

"Kim, are you listening to me?" Eric demanded suddenly. His anger in his voice startled me. I looked at him with wide eyes. Eric sighed and calmed down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so angry." Eric fiddled with his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed together as he seemed to be thinking about what he was going to say next. "Kim, I know that when your mother isn't home, your father comes and beats you."

I winced. How did he know that?

"Claire is in your gym class. Well, she use to in seventh grade. She never came to you directly. She tried to speak with you sometimes, but it didn't work out. Instead, she came to me and asked questions," Eric said. He looked up at me. "Something about bruises and cuts. Did he do anything else?"

I started shaking. Eric knew too much. Claire knew too much. When did they start to learn about these things? I never noticed this. I never noticed that whenever I walked up to the two that they would stop talking. No, they always continued talking. They were always talking about teachers or other people when I walked up to them. Did they change it when I was coming close by? Did-

"Silent people talk think too much, haven't you ever heard of that?" Eric commented, a stupid grin on his face. 

I nodded my head. Chris made that comment to me. He was being funny at the time, trying to get me to crack a smile or laugh. Eric was just doing the same thing. The same thing that everyone is trying to do. 

"Kim, I want to help you out," Eric begged. "Is there something that I can do for you? To help you out a little bit?"

My lips trembled. I nodded my head.

"What is it then?" Eric said hopefully.

"I want you to-to-to stay away from me," I muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

I must tell you people. This story was placed up here on fan fiction because my friend couldn't get yahoo to work for her. She wanted to read it since I was freaking out on her. This story is what I submitted to _Push Novels _around March 11. I had to send it in quickly because it had to be post marked by March 12. 

I'm surprised that you found my story. You must be a fan of mine, or you had just stumped upon it when you were searching for something. I'm also surprised that someone hasn't flamed me yet on _any_ of the fan fictions that I have written. I'm just lucky, I guess.

I'm sorry for those who are looking forward to chapter 4, there won't be one on here. Maybe, the next time you see chapter 4, would be in real life, when it gets published.

IF it gets published. I have to keep reminding myself that there are other people better than me out there in the world. Mostly the people with books already published. 

_Mirrors Don't Talk _is my own creation. From my own mind. This is not a fan fiction of anything. It's just my little story that I submitted to _Push Novels._

Now I'm done with my stupid ranting. Enjoy your lives, while I freak out about mine. 


End file.
